


My turn to pursue you

by merle_p



Category: Glee
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Schmoopy crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-10
Updated: 2010-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-10 04:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merle_p/pseuds/merle_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone is stalking Kurt. He doesn’t mind too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My turn to pursue you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ipleadthe5th](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ipleadthe5th).



> Prompt was: _Glee, Finn/Kurt, secret admirer_.  
>  **Spoilers:** For the first season  
>  **Disclaimer:** _Glee_ belongs to FOX.

It starts after the premiere of Kurt’s second big Broadway show. He doesn’t think much of it at first, because ever since his interpretation of Angel in _RENT_ , he gets all kinds of things every day: flowers, chocolates, declarations of love, proposals of marriage. His father usually just chuckles when Kurt tells him, but it’s a gentle laugh, the pride and love behind it hard to miss.

But these particular gifts stick out from the rest. 

“A football?” he asks, disbelievingly, turning the object in his hands. It’s been so long since he held one.

“A football,” Mercedes confirms. “And an old one, too.”

Kurt sighs. “Why would anybody give me a tattered, second-hand football?”

Mercedes shrugs. “Well, maybe there’s some kind of history behind it? Is it signed?”

Kurt looks at the ball more closely. “No,” he says. “Nothing. There’s something that looks like a smiley face, but it could just be dirt.”

“Yeah, I got nothing,” Mercedes says, and Kurt thinks about throwing the ball away. In the end, he puts it next to the stuffed animals that fans keep sending him. At least it’s not another teddy bear.

 

“A secret admirer,” the card that came with the football said, and the same words are written on the card that is tacked to the next gift.

“Is this a … slushie maker?” Kurt asks himself, weakly. It is: a brand new, easy-to-handle slushie maker, and for a moment, Kurt actually feels nostalgic. 

He invites Artie over, for old times’ sake, and they spend a night drinking vodka-spiked slushies until they agree that the stuff isn’t so bad if you don’t have to wear it in your hair.

 

The next one is an envelope with tickets to a baseball game that he ends up giving to Finn. Finn is reluctant to take them, but it’s not as if Kurt would actually use them himself: the guys he’s dating these days are usually more into show tunes and fashion shows than into sports. 

He doesn’t tell anybody that sometimes he actually misses the smell of hot dogs and sweaty bodies wafting across the field, the voices of his fellow cheerleaders surrounding him like a protecting cocoon of sound.

 

After that, it’s a 5 pounds box of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, which is weird, because Kurt has never told anybody except Mercedes that he’s secretly addicted to them; and Mercedes has already sworn up and down that she isn’t the one sending him the gifts. 

Then it’s a scarf, far too cheap to be up to his usual standards, but pretty nonetheless; a pair of slutty red six inch heels, surprisingly in the correct size; a pink-and-silver dust bin; a bottle of cheap liquor.

They always come with the same white card, “A secret admirer” written across the back in black block letters, but there’s nothing that would Kurt help figure out who’s sending the mysterious gifts.

They also always show up on Kurt’s doorstep, and that’s what bothers him the most, because it means that the person actually knows where he lives. 

 

“Are you sure it’s not a crazy stalker?” his father asks over coffee and cookies one Sunday afternoon, when Kurt and Finn both are in Lima to visit. He doesn’t sound overly concerned. 

Kurt raises his brows. “But why would a stalker send me a football? Wouldn’t he give me things like sex toys, or dirty underwear?”

Finn chokes on his cookie and starts to cough, and Burt seems torn between laughter and tears. Kurt smiles at his father and pats Finn’s back, and tries not to think about how the muscles shift under his palm when Finn coughs again. 

 

A week later, back in New York, he wakes to loud noises outside his apartment building. He hears yelling, and when he looks out of the window, he sees his Mrs. Finch, his neighbor from downstairs, talking to a police officer, while another cop is putting handcuffs on a distraught looking Finn.

“Finn?!” Kurt shouts, and four pairs of eyes move to look up at him. “Finn, what on Earth are you doing here?”

He just remembers to snatch his keys from the table before jumping down the stairs.

“What’s going on here?” he asks. “Why are you arresting him?”

“He was trying to break in,” Mrs. Finch exclaims, outraged, hands on her hips. “So I called the police.”

“I wasn’t breaking in,” Finn protests, “I have a key.”

“You know him?” the cop with the handcuffs asks, and Kurt nods. 

“He’s my brother.”

“Your brother?” the other officer asks skeptically, his eyes wandering from Kurt’s lavender silk pajamas to his painted toe nails and then towards the wall of the house where a huge heart-shaped pillow rests, “I heart you” printed across it in fat, golden letters. 

Kurt blushes and crosses his arms over his chest. Finn blushes and looks up at the sky. 

“It’s complicated,” they both say at the same time. 

The cops start to laugh.

 

“So, that was you,” Kurt says when they are sitting next to each other, on the couch in his living room, far away from hysterical police officers and Kurt’s nosy neighbor.

Finn shrugs. “I thought you’d figure it out eventually. I mean, being a secret admirer is only fun for so long.”

Kurt frowns. “So … I think I get the slushie maker, and the scarf, but … how did you know about the Peanut Butter Cups?”

“Dude,” Finn says. “I shared a room with you for years. You were always hiding them under your bed and thought I didn’t know they were there.”

Kurt blushes. “And the heels?”

Finn shrugs. “I wanted to get you the ones you wore for that GaGa number in sophomore year, but then I realized that the originals cost about a million dollars, and I’d never be able to make something like that myself. And I remembered that back then, you bought these red hooker boots on the internet and just put all that stuff on them …”

“Wow,” Kurt says. His head is reeling. “What about the football?”

Now it’s Finn’s turn to blush. “Remember that game you won for us?”

“What, you stole that ball and kept it?” Kurt asks, eyes widening, and Finn looks away. 

“It seemed important at the time.”

Kurt shakes his head. “Why now?” he asks. “We lived in the same house for three years, we went to the same college, and we’ve both been in New York for over a year … and you never showed any interest.”

Finn still isn’t looking at him. “I don’t know? I just … I saw you on stage in _RENT_ , and all around me, people were ah-ing and oh-ing how amazing you were, and they gave you a standing ovation, and I was so proud, I just wanted to tell everyone that you belonged with me.” He sighs. “And then I realized you didn’t.”

“Oh,” Kurt says. He remembers that night, how he had hoped that Finn would come backstage after the show to say hello. 

“So …” Finn says finally. “I mean, I knew that you didn’t like me like that anymore, but I thought that maybe, if you liked the presents, you would get used to the idea again … it was stupid, I know.”

“No, not stupid,” Kurt says. “Weird and terribly inappropriate, maybe. But that seems to be the only way we are able to deal with each other, so it seems strangely fitting.”

“What does that mean?” Finn asks. He looks worried, but there’s hope in his voice. 

“That means,” Kurt smiles, “that the famous Broadway star Kurt Hummel will deign to go on a date with his number one fan Finn Hudson, who is also his step-brother and former high school crush. It will be very scandalous and incredibly romantic in an utterly tawdry way, and famous opera singer Rachel Berry will be green with envy.”

“I like that,” Finn says and leans in for a kiss, but in the last moment, Kurt stops him with a hand on his chest. 

“Oh, and Finn,” he says. “You better not let my father find out that you are the creepy guy that stalked me for months.”

“Oh,“ Finn says carelessly. “He knows.” 

And then he takes advantage of the fact that Kurt’s mouth is still open in shock, and kisses him, with tongue and teeth and all that, and it is, indeed, incredibly romantic.


End file.
